


Number 64

by major_general



Category: Highlander: The Series, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-11
Updated: 2007-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-29 13:42:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/major_general/pseuds/major_general
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Methos tells the story of his 64th wife</p>
            </blockquote>





	Number 64

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a woman unmarried over the age of five and twenty is a spinster.

Netherfield Park had been let again but this time Mrs. Bennett did not encourage her husband to visit the tenant. She had given up hope that her middle child would ever be wed. Mary Bennett had neither the beauty nor talents of her sisters. She was never the girl all the men wanted to dance with or surrounded at balls and parties. Kitty had been able to benefit from her older sisters’ marriages but Mary had not. She resigned herself to a life caring for her parents and then most likely caring for her nieces and nephews. She had had nothing to make herself attractive to men when she was still young; now that she was old it was silly to even dream. So it was a surprise when Dr. Adams started visiting.

He had called on her father first. While on the whole rather polite, he did not seem to adhere to societal conventions. He had been visiting families in the neighborhood without leave since he had come to Netherfield. Dr. Adams did not seem to notice his indiscretions and was very cordial and gracious to all who welcomed him. He often would see to any ailments of which his hosts complained while he was at their homes. This is how he came to visit so often. Mrs. Bennett would tell him of her pains and her nerves. With a smile, he would see to them and give her something to make it all better. He seemed to be very amused by her, something Mr. Bennett found amusing himself. Needless to say, Dr. Adams was a very welcome guest at Longbourn.

Mary bore it well. A young doctor visited her home because her mother was amusing, because he enjoyed her father’s logic; she never even imagined that he could be coming by because he enjoyed her company as well.

Dr Adams stopped by on a Tuesday morning and asked if Miss Bennett would not mind taking a turn about the garden with him. She was shocked but, for propriety’s sake, agreed and followed him out the door. They walked in silence for a good fifteen minutes before he urged her to sit by him on a bench.

“Miss Bennett,” he said. “You may have noticed that I come to Longbourn more often than I do to any other house in the area.”

“Yes, sir. Indeed I have, Dr. Adams.”

“Yes. Do you know why I come?”

“Because my mother amuses you and my father intrigues you.”

“That and…”

“And what, sir?”

“I find you beautiful and wish to spend more time with you.”

Mary was slightly flummoxed. “With me, sir?”

“Yes, Mary. With you.” She flinched as he touched her cheek. “I was hoping that you would consent to be my wife.”

She could not speak. Words would not come. She was a spinster. She was five and twenty. She had four married sisters. This was no longer supposed to happen to her. His other hand had found its way into hers. She gripped it tightly and did the only sensible thing.

“Yes, Dr. Adams. Yes, I will marry you.”

He smiled and leaned in. His lips met hers in a not at all unpleasant manner. Mary pulled back, reminding herself of her Dr. Adams’ sometimes want of propriety.

“Dr. Adams, please sir. We are not yet married.”

He smirked. His finger caressed her face. “I will go to your father.”

They were married in the spring. The bride’s guests were all in shock, not only because of the improbability of Mary ever marrying, but also at the few, noteworthy guests of the groom, all of whom made it clear that no one should know that they were in the country. Mrs. Darcy spent the day questioning them. Mr. Collins spent the day lecturing that it was not proper for a clergyman to be seen in the same room with such people.

Before the end of the night, her sisters and mother took Mary aside to have a word with her.

“Just lie still and it will only hurt for a minute,” her mother said.

“Lie still?” scoffed Mrs. Wickham. “It’s not very pleasant if you do not move a little.”

Mrs. Bingley looked scandalized. “Mary, just, do not be afraid. He will know what to do.”

“Yes, I’m sure you will enjoy it.” said Mrs. Darcy.

“It’s really not as frightening as they’re all making it out to be, Mary.” said Mrs. Chesterfield.

Mary considered what she knew. Marriage was for the procreation of children. Though St. Paul encouraged men and women to live unmarried if possible, those who could not were encouraged to find a mate. She supposed it was too late for her to remain a spinster and she had not wished to be a burden on her sisters. This was certainly a better choice. Scripture also taught that “Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up. Again, if two lie together, then they have heat: but how can one be warm alone?” But what was meant by “heat”? Certainly a partner in life was important. All these thoughts went through her head as she waited in her new bed chamber for her husband to come.

He came at last, but did not take enough time either. Dr. Adams found his bride sitting on their bed at Netherfield in a brand new nightgown. She looked lovely. Her hair was down upon her shoulders and she looked at him with resolve. He sat down across from her, took her hand in his, and lovingly pressed his lips to her fingers. He pulled her in; gently wrapping one arm around her as his other hand caressed her face. She did her best not to tremble. He kissed her. It was different than before, almost as if his first kiss had been chaste (though certainly no kiss between unmarried people could be considered such). The hand on her face traced from her jawline down to her breast. She jumped slightly.

“Mary,” he asked “are you uncomfortable with this?”

“No sir. I am unaccustomed. Certainly, St. Paul said ‘The wife hath not power of her own body, but the husband: and likewise also the husband hath not power of his own body, but the wife.’”

“Yes and for a right woman hating bastard, no truer words were said.”

“Sir, it is not right to say such things about St. Paul.”

“Yes, you are quite right. I am sorry. I misspoke.”

 

A few years passed and the couple was quite content in married life. The doctor would see to patients and Mary would look after the house. He brought her books on theology and morality which she enjoyed quoting at length to his rapt audience. Their home was a happy one; except that Mary remained barren. She could not understand why. She was not too old. She allowed her husband his power over her body. Why could she not be fruitful and multiply? Perhaps she was doing something wrong? Perhaps she ought not enjoy her husband’s touch? Maybe if he did not blaspheme quite as much, God would judge them worthy and gift them with a child. She decided that she must correct the situation.

“Dr. Adams, you cannot blaspheme.”

“And why is that, my love? Other than the obvious, of course.”

“Because I am barren and wish not to be so.”

He looked at her with such sadness that she knew not how to react. He took her hands in his and said, “You’ve never mentioned this before. Why didn’t you ever say anything about it?”

“It is not wise to tempt fate.”

“If you had told me, I could have spared you so much pain.”

“Dr. Adams? Is this something you have done?”

“No, Mary. It’s something I cannot do,” his hand caressed her face. “I am incapable of fathering children.”

She stood up and backed away. “What is the point of marriage if you cannot have children?”

“Love, Mary. Marriage is about love and companionship. And I love you and am terribly amused by your company. I have never enjoyed moral praxes so much in my life. You know I’m a blasphemer. But I love how you incorporate morality into everything you do. And this is yet another result of your determination to do what’s best. Don’t be upset, my love. We’ll adopt.”

“Adopt?”

“Unless you want to commit adultery and bear a bastard that I will raise as my own?”

“Dr. Adams!”

“I thought not,” he said with a laugh. “We shall adopt one or two of your sister’s brood.

And this is how Fanny and Edward Wickham came to be Fanny and Edward Adams. They were doted on by their parents and taught to be moral and god-fearing. They filled their adoptive mother’s days with joy and their birth mother’s heart with hope. Because as Mary was fond of pointing out, “The children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way, show them all the beauty they possess inside, give them a sense of pride to make it easier. Let the children's laughter remind us how we used to be.” The children also inherited a fortune when their adoptive father fell off a cliff when he was not yet one and forty.

“So what you are telling me,” asked Joe, “is that the new Prime minister of England—”

“Neil Adams.”

“—owes his wealth and connections to your adopting his great great great grandfather?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“How many other adopted kids did you have, Methos?”

“Let’s see…Fifty? Ask me which one’s descendant is a famous porn star.”

“I just don’t want to know.”

“I just don’t believe that.”


End file.
